


Happiness

by NoelleLilacNotte



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, All of my songfics are Three Days Grace, M/M, Sebastian has to help poor baby Jim, Songfic, Very drunk Jim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5004616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelleLilacNotte/pseuds/NoelleLilacNotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Moriarty drinks too much. Sebastian is not happy about it. Three Days Grace songfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happiness

*I reach out when I have a confession, I reach out in desperation, I reach out when nobody's listening, so I go looking for the next best thing*

“Hey, Boss i'm home.”  
No response from the apparently breathing body in the chair in the living room.  
“Boss.”  
“Zzzzzzzz”  
“BOSS!”  
Moriarty jolted awake, the thick glass bottle in his hand slipped and shattered on the bit of tile floor that hadn't been covered by slightly bloodstained rugs.   
“Seb?”  
“Boss what the hell are you doing?”  
“Just watching some TV”  
Moran sighed. This tended to happen, but only when he’d been gone for a few weeks. Something had happened to Jim.  
“Boss, what happened?”  
“Nothing, Seb! Nothing at all.”  
“No, seriously, what happened? You only ever drink this much when I've been gone on a mission like Siberia.”  
Jim scowled.  
“I said nothing, now i'm going to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happiness straight from the bottle, when real life’s too hard to swallow. Happiness straight from the bottle, when real life’s too hard to swallow.

The assassin looked around the room as the drunk criminal stumbled into his bedroom. Bottles everywhere. Some of them broken, some of them whiskey, some of them vodka, but all of them empty. He was going to kill whoever did this to Jim. Whether Jim gave the order or not. He shuffled the bits of broken glass into a bag from the kitchen, pondering whether or not to wait until Jim got up the next morning to tell him he was on alcohol restrictions from now on. He may have been irish but he could not handle this much liquor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I feel them judging on me for their own pleasure, if they really knew they’d know better, that I’m the one who caves under pressure, when desperate times call for desperate measures.

Sebastian heard a chiming sound coming from the table beside Jim’s chair. Bloody fool forgot his phone. Might as well check it.   
It was some faceless gunman asking if he should shoot.  
Figures.  
Moran decided he’d wait until Jim could correctly form words before showing him the message. You never want to operate a deadly criminal web when youre drunk. Someone could get killed. Or more importantly, someone could get killed who you didn’t intend to die in the first place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Happiness straight from the bottle, when real life’s too hard to swallow. Happiness straight from the bottle, when real life’s too hard to swallow.

Moran found one of the single unfinished bottles and took a swig. He figured he deserved it, after shooting down a few men who were in the way, and trying to clean up Jim’s broken bottles. Seriously, someone was going to step on one of those things someday. And you can’t just tell someone if they don’t fix your bleeding foot, you’ll murder their family.  
Oh wait.  
Yes you can.   
You can when you’re Jim Moriarty’s favorite sniper.   
When you’re Jim Moriarty’s favorite sniper, you can do anything you want.


End file.
